Chapter Thirteen

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Later that week, Ives woke up in the middle of the night – somewhere between Tuesday night and Wednesday morning – regretting having consumed a large glass of Mountain Dew before bed. On his way to the bathroom he noticed a dancing glow coming from the living room, and on his way back to his room he stopped to investigate.

His mother had fallen asleep on the couch with the TV on. The infomercial host was excitedly telling late-night viewers all the advantages of a super-blender that could do twenty different things. The volume was already fairly low, but Ives went to the TV and turned it down even more. Lisa Fay was curled up against one edge of the couch, her hand hovering over an ashtray on the end table. The cigarette that was half in her grasp was still smoking.

Ives sighed and took the cigarette from her. He put it out the way he'd seen both of his parents snuff their cigarettes before, then he gently moved her arm to what he thought would be a more comfortable position. He had just turned to get the throw blanket for her when she stirred.

"Ives?" she asked quietly.

He put the blanket over her and took in her tired expression. "Mom," he said, feeling suddenly desperate, "what will happen to Kylle and me if something happens to you?"

She looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Why would anything happen to me?"

"Because you're falling asleep with lit cigarettes," Ives stated, pointing angrily at the ashtray. "You're hardly paying the bills. You're struggling to keep a job. You're becoming alcoholic." He stepped back and crossed his arms, wondering if she could see his scars in the faint light from the TV, since he wore a tee-shirt to bed at night. "We lost our dad, do you think we want to lose our mom, too? You're supposed to take care of us. I'm sure Aunt Julia won't want to."

He didn't wait for a response, but turned and marched back to his room, where he pounded his pillow in frustration. He knew he'd never be able to get back to sleep while he was this upset, but suddenly he remembered the bottles in his closet, and practically ran to them.

"I'm sorry, Tomi," he murmured, before taking a long drink.

The guilt stopped him from drinking much, and he put the bottle away as soon as he felt calm. He went back to bed, hating the taste that the alcohol left in his mouth. For the first time, he was happy that he wouldn't be seeing Tomi the next day. He couldn't bear to face him the day after failing him like this.

But it was like he expected Tomi to know that he'd failed him that night anyway, which caused him to be quite surprised when Tomi sent him a text soon after he'd gotten to school.

I miss you. I wish we could see each other more.

Ives swallowed his guilt and typed a response. So do I. I miss you too.

When he closed his phone he saw Sam looking at him from down the hallway. His former stalker was dressed very femininely this time, and she waved at him. Ives just shook his head and turned to go the opposite direction. Sam was the last person he wanted to deal with at the moment.

But Sam found him at lunch.

"Have you had time to think about us?" she asked.

Ives looked up from his latest text from Tomi telling him that he was sure he'd just failed a geometry test and his parents would kill him. "Yeah," he replied, scowling. "It's still no."

She reached out to touch him, and Ives recoiled. "Why not?" she asked, her lipsticked lips pouting.

"Because I don't think my boyfriend would like it," Ives stated, glaring. "I thought I told you to leave me the hell alone."

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